


Teaching Sons

by sometimesimeow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Sex, Cheating, Creampie, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Implication of a Gangbang, M/M, Manipulation, Parent/Child Incest, Sex for Favors, Sibling Incest, Unsafe Sex, child grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:16:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesimeow/pseuds/sometimesimeow
Summary: Jon wants something from Rhaegar. Even though he's  a prince, he still works for what he wants.The Modern AU of Westeros where Rhaegar takes care of Jon after Lyanna dies and follows all the fun Targaryen traditions to a tee.





	Teaching Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags, because they encompass most of the warnings. If you find a tag that is not there and should be there, please tell me because it's looking kind of sparse.  
> This is set in a modern Westeros so everyone is still nobility but it's like modern day nobility where they don't do anything.

Every parent has a favorite child; the child they would save if all were drowning, the child that gets more attention, more thoughtful gifts, kisses with tongue— _that child_. Rhaegar isn’t ashamed to admit that his favorite is his baby, Jon. Hells, his entire family is well aware of how much Rhaegar dotes on his bubble butted babe with his licorice swirl curls, and soft, snow bunny skin. The same skin that peeks out whenever he wears his father’s too-big shirts in bed and it falls off his shoulders like a Naathi child bride. Rhaegar cannot be blamed for spoiling him; and if his bashful expressions and sweet demeanor aren’t a qualifying enough incentive, then the fact that Jon’s mother is dead should be. Children with dead mothers deserved to be spoiled.

His mother, Lyanna Stark, was the love of Rhaegar’s life. He met her when she was sixteen years old—right at the cusp of womanhood. They had a passionate love affair, full of filthy, finger-related acts and cock and cunt worship. She died horribly— _eclampsia_ , they said—which turned out to be a series of horrible seizures that had Lyanna convulsing with blood spasms and then dropping dead at a moment’s notice. Pregnancy is a nasty business, Rhaegar thought when the doctor gave his diagnosis. Rhaegar’s mourning was cut short when the wetnurse, a Dornish woman who had grown quite close to Lyanna over her pregnancy—and almost had to have the child pried out of her hands—brought him, Jon. Jon, with his tiny fingers and tinier toes and minute, newborn laughter. Rhaegar realized that Lyanna’s death was no accident—it was fate. She died because she couldn’t withstand the love they shared. Instead, she made someone Rhaegar could pour all their passion into; her final gift from her to him: Jon, a companion suited to Rhaegar’s every need. By pampering their son together, Rhaegar was honoring his late girlfriend's memory. 

He couldn't see why _his wife_ understand that?

Elia has been unjustifiably badgering him all morning, and the clock struck twelve two hours ago. On two occasions, breakfast and a maester-recommended snack, she pauses only to resume her role as his keeper. Rhaegar finds the whole thing tedious. He wishes she would ask for a divorce, but Elia is no quitter and she is a vengeful snake when she wants to be—she knows a divorce is exactly what Rhaegar wants and she’ll be damned if she does something _he wants._ Rheagar, on the other hand, is trapped. He is royalty and royals simply do not get _divorced._  Unfortunately, Elia is the perfect wife. She is faithful, has given him a healthy son and heir, and is known by the people as the submissive wife who has done no wrong. Furthermore, Jon likes her. Rhaegar knows he should be happy that the son of his mistress and his wife get along, but he can’t help but curse her Dornish upbringing. Elia is the perfect stepmother. She has never laid a hand on Rhaegar’s bastard nor has she ever said a cruel word to him. While she doesn’t treat Jon like one of her own, she refers to Jon as her children’s brother. She gets him a gift on his nameday and purchases him clothes when she is shopping for the other children. Things a mother is expected to do.

Her kindness makes it harder for Rheagar to claim bias when he does something unreasonable. Like now, for example.

“You bought him a _waterfall_!” Elia screams—no, angrily points out because Elia never _screams_.

“I bought him _the land_ around a waterfall. I wanted to build him a house,” Rhaegar defended. “It was an investment for his future.”

“It’s still a damn waterfall!”

“It was his birthday. Fourteen is a very important year.”

“How?” Elia almost hisses.

Rhaegar is at a lost. He wonders if “it’s one more year closer to being legal” is an adequate response before the sound of his son’s pattering comes within hearing distance. He takes the opportunity to leave his wife seething and open up his arms for his youngest son. Jon jumps into them accordingly and allows himself to get kissed and fondle to his father’s content. Jon is such a good boy. He doesn’t mind a little bit of groping and neck kisses. In fact, Rhaegar may as go so far to say that Jon enjoys them. Elia, frustrated by the scene, throws her hands up in the air. She never argues about Jon in front of him—that would ruin the image she’s crafted. Jon sees her exasperation and asks if everything is alright.

“Everything is fine,” Rhaegar lies. “She’s just commenting on the lovely waterfall I bought you. I can’t wait to fly you out to see it. How about tomorrow?” Jon doesn’t attend school so anytime is a convenient time.

Jon agrees, but there's a little more reluctance in his tone. His smile is a little funny; he leans upwards to give Rhaegar another kiss before a streak of white pitters over Jon’s feet, scarping its fangs against Rhaegar’s flesh in the process. Rhaegar glares at the furry vermin. Jon laughs and picks up his puppy.

“Sorry, Ghost has gotten super protective of me. We slept together last night—Robb says it’s normal.”

Rhaegar purses his lips at the thought of Jon sleeping next to anybody that wasn’t him. After their party last night, Robb Stark, _the little shit_ , invited him over to his house for a sleepover. He had no choice but to comply, especially given that Robb’s father was the biggest pain Rhaegar’s ass has ever had. Ned Stark has been trying to get custody of Jon since he was born, claiming Rhaegar is _unstable_. A few slumber parties and far too frequent visitation is a small price to pay for peace.

Rhaegar presses his lips upon Jon’s for a deeper, more longing kiss he can never afford to give in Elia’s presence. There, he notices an increase of plumpness and a little heat in his cheeks that isn’t normally there, not unless Rhaegar— _oh_.

Aegon, his middle child with the shit timing, walks into the room. He scoops Ghost into his arm and suggests Jon take a bath. Guilt is iced on his face, written in swirls and strawberry flavored frosting and Rhaegar’s eyes narrow. He sets Jon free to deal with his oldest son.  

“And why do you look so nervous?”

Aegon sweats like a ravine upon the question. The pup in his arms yelps for freedom. He releases the beast so that it can run after its master. Then, Aegon lets out a deep breath. “Jon and I…got into a little accident on our way here.”

Rhaegar crosses his arm. “What kind of accident?”

“The kind of accident…where we have sex?”

Rhaegar really should have spent more time with his oldest son. Maybe that way, he could have taught his son not to be so simple. “What?”

“We stopped to get breakfast and when we got back to the car, I teased him a bit and grabbed his phone…”

Rhaegar groans. “You know he hates it when you do that!”

Aegon sighs regretfully. “I know! I told him to get it if he wanted it so badly. Then, out of nowhere, he hops onto my lap and starts to squirm, trying to get it back. Who does that? We had a bit of a tumble and naturally, I got an erection.”

“Naturally.”   

“And my belt got caught in his zipper and his pants ended up getting pulled down and my belt unbuckled. At this point, my cock _pushed_ my zipper down and you know I hate wearing underwear when I wear those pants—”

“I told you those were too tight!”

“They make my ass look great!” Aegon defends. “So both our trousers are gone, and I have no underwear so my cock just springs out of there. Jon’s wearing those panties you bought him—”

“The red ones with the words ‘daddy’s girl’?”

“The very one,” Aegon confirms. “And you know how easy those are to push away. So Jon keeps trying to get his phone and I let him have it, but he gets excited. Too excited. Instead of getting back onto the passenger seat, Jon forgets that we both no longer have pants and _sits down_. Right on my cock.”

Rhaegar curses up a storm. “And he just slid in?”

“Like an eel,” Aegon tells him. “I’m trying to get him off—like not off, off, but off of my cock—and I ended up pushing the shift into drive. So Jon is forced back on my lap and we're on the open road. I tried to pull over but there was no chance while we’re driving on the road. Then, we hit a few speed bumps and Jon keeps bouncing, up and down, up and down until I come and then he comes. We finally find a place to pull over and I clean him up, only for a car to past by us and naturally, I panic—”

“As you tend to do.”

“And because I panicked…” Aegon blushes. “I sort of tackled him down so no one could see us and then my cock gets in him _again_.”  

“Aegon!”

Aegon groans. “And then we have sex a second time.”

Rhaegar shakes his head in disappointment. “Aegon, this is what? The _twelfth_ time you’ve accidentally had sex with your brother? How are you this careless!”

“He doesn’t seem to mind it!” Aegon retorts. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to have sex with him if he wasn’t so loose. That’s on you with your ‘toy of the week’ inside him half the time.”

“If I didn’t put a vibe in him half the time, your cock would find a way to slip inside!” Rhaegar shakes his head. He heads to the stairs. “I’m going to talk to him. You need to sit here and think about your actions.” Rhaegar pauses. “And talk to your mother. She thinks I spoil Jon too much. With the rate you keep going at him, it’s a miracle I haven’t give him the kingdom to make up for it.”

“Jon would look so pretty in a crown,” Aegon mutters. 

The thought is lovely, and Rhaegar wonders if he should set forth a proposal. Aegon wouldn’t oppose to an engagement with Jon, and their marriage would have the benefit of keeping _it_ within the family. Elia might actually leave him at that point.

***

Rhaegar ends up finding Jon in his bedroom instead of the bath. The boy is fresh from a shower, wearing a fluffy white bathroom and wet curls. His legs are swinging in the air and he is chomping on chocolates, not paying any attention to the pieces on his bed.

“You should knock,” Jon notes when he sees him come in.

“I’m your father,” Rhaegar points out.

“You’re a father with hands.”

Rhaegar chuckles. He takes a piece of chocolate from Jon’s bag, paying close attention to the little whine of distress coming out of Jon’s lips. “I heard you got into a bit of scuffle with Aegon, again?”

Jon shrugs. “That was an accident.”  

“I see.” Rhaegar climbs onto the bed. “Was there anything else that happened?”

Jon finishes off the piece he was eating. He avoids Rhaegar’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Last time, you ‘accidentally’ had sex with Aegon, he drove you to meet with your uncle without my consent. The time before that, he took you to an amusement park to join your cousin when I specifically told him not to.” Rhaegar slips the robes off Jon’s shoulders. He kisses his neck. “The first time, you wanted to learn horseback riding but I said it was too dangerous and you _accidentally_ had sex in the stables. Aegon was pretty enthusiastic about teaching you after that.”

Jon turns his head away from his father.

“I’ve given you rubies and stallions and pretty clothes and houses. Anything you’ve ever wanted has been yours. But those are just _things_. You turn to Aegon when you want something more. You get him take your side and I respect that, I do.” Rhaegar pulls Jon back on the bed and kisses him on the lips so hard, the little folds end up bruising, swollen like balloons and red as rouge. “So what do you want, Jon?”  

Jon is silent—he’s always been a thoughtful child, unlike his siblings who say exactly how they feel regardless of the time and place. “I want to go to school.”

Rhaegar tightens his grip on Jon.  

“Robb and Theon were telling me about all their adventures last night and it’s not fair that I don’t get to be a part of them. I want to play pranks and do sports and make fun of my teachers. I'm tired of being in the dark. I don't even know what it's like to sit in a cafeteria. I want to be normal.”

Rhaegar disagrees immediately. “You’re my son—you’re never going to be normal. It’s a risk to both of us to have you in the public eye.”

“Aegon and Rhaenys got to go!”

“Aegon and Rhaenys don’t have the same responsibilities as you.” Aegon kisses his nipple and licks. “You remember your uncle’s reaction when he saw that kiss mark. He still doesn’t believe it was a bug bite.”

“That’s because it wasn’t,” Jon retorts. “ _Daddy_ , why should I lose out on my childhood because you’re afraid of getting caught?”

Rhaegar grabs Jon’s hips and pulls him towards him. “And you’re not afraid?” He grinds Jon’s bare cock against Rhaegar’s clothed manhood. The friction makes Rhaegar want to rip off his pants and go to town on Jon’s plump little ass. Rhaegar watches as Jon’s eyes dilute and his son pants with arousal. “You don’t want this?”

Jon glares underneath him. “I want to be someone besides Rhaegar Targaryen’s bastard.”

Rhaegar finds the whole notion ridiculous. He blames the Starks inside his head, before relenting—on one condition. “Make it worth my while, and I’ll consider sending you to school.”

It turns out to be the wrong thing to say. Rhaegar isn’t sure he’s ever seen Jon move so fast. His hands latch onto Rhaegar’s pants and take out his cock. He’s grinning, wide and triumphan,  and he looks so fucking precious, that Rhaegar has no choice but to ravage and take.

With his cock free, Rhaegar swats away Jon’s hands and spreads his legs apart. He slips a finger inside Jon and admires the way it sucks it all the way in to the knuckle. Jon’s baby cunt is hot and wet and made for fucking after the round he had with Aegon.

“My precious boy,” Rhaegar mutters. “You have no idea what you look like, do you?" Rhaegar whispers. "Loose as a whore and even easier to fuck. You’re so desperate for a cock; you’d fuck your own father. I don’t think I’ve ever known a boy that slutty.”

Jon whimpers when Rhaegar retracts his finger. “Daddy, _please_ ,” he begs. He rocks his hips against Rhaegar. “I want you so badly, daddy. I want you inside me.”

Rhaegar’s cock is cushioned between Jon’s fat bottom and he squeezes both cheeks together to get more leaking from that ripe, slutty cunt his son enjoys flaunting. Jon keens with delight; he rolls his hips a second time to motivate Rhaegar’s tip against his hole. Unable to withstand the temptation much longer, Rhaegar pushes his head inside. The slick, used opening is accommodating. Jon is a shameless bundle of pleasure, squealing as Rhaegar moves further in. Jon’s hole is glutinous, swallowing him whole and it feels like heaven around him. While loose on the intake, Jon is quick to tighten up when he feels Rhaegar pushing in. When Rhaegar is fully inside, his son becomes a little more than a sheath; a cunt made solely for the pleasure of his daddy’s rock hard cock.

Jon slumps down on his bedsheets and spreads his legs wider for more access.

“You’re aching for it, baby,” Rhaegar whispers tenderly. “Whenever you take my cock, I can’t even tell if you’re my son or some whore I picked up on the streets. You just take dick so well.”

Jon moans when Rhaegar starts thrusting; he never fails to his little boy’s prostate each time.

“You know; you have to keep an eye out if you go to school. Boys are nothing more than dogs. All they care about is getting their cocks inside bitches like yourself. They’ll take one look at you and it won’t be long until they’re bending you over and stuffing your cunt full.”

Jon whines delightfully. Rhaegar can’t help but continue his abuse, clinging to the hope that his filthy promises will make Jon change his mind about his educational choices.

“I bet you won’t last a day there before the older boys start taking turns with you.” Jon’s hole is stretched widely around Rhaegar’s cock. At fourteen, his little boy is a lot smaller than him and according to their family’s maester, he won’t be growing much larger, either. He’ll forever be a waifish little nymph, better at taking cock than ever giving it. “Can you imagine them? All crowded around you, waiting for their turn. So many boys, they’ll get so impatient. If I know you, you’ll probably be taking two cocks into your sweet cunt, and there’ll be one in your mouth.” Rhaegar gives a harsher, punching thrust into Jon. His hole is getting abused and his body is used as no more than a fleshlight. “Not to mention your hands, clutching onto dicks for balance. No one will be able to save you when they do so; not your cousin, _Robb_ ,” Rhaegar hisses as he gives another sharp thrust. “And definitely not the teachers—those bastards will probably want their turn next.” Rhaegar picked up his pace. “At least you will never have to worry about studying again. There’s no way a professor will turn down this piece of ass in exchange for a rutty piece of paper. By the end of the school year, you’ll have top scores with how often you’ll be trading your ass for grades.”  

Rhaegar gives another hard thrust and Jon simply falls apart. 

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Jon?" Rhaegar asks. "You'd thrash around like a virgin maiden before begging for more. After the first cock is inside you, all that’ll be left is a whimpering whore with a dripping pussy.”

“Daddy!” Jon sobs. "Fuck me, please. Fill me up, I can't—"

“They’re going to have you like I’ve had you. Can you imagine it? All of them flooding your insides with _warm, thick seed_ until you burst.”

Jon is crying, sobbing ‘daddy’ and ‘please’ and commenting on how full he feels. Rhaegar cannot afford to get out now. Hearing his son so needy and wanton is enough to get him really pounding. Jon always takes _rough_ the best when he wants something. Rhaegar starts thrusting in hard and even manages to get another finger in to get Jon to tense and tighten just like Rhagar likes.

His orgasm is ripped out of him when Jon chokes on his tears, causing his cunt to grip around his cock and make him see stars; gallons of cum is spilling inside of Jon’s already full hole. Rhaegar's erection dies down but before he can fully get soft, he starts pushing in further, using his deflating cock to rub against Jon's prostate with a fervor. The action causes more cum to gush inside Jon’s ass and before long, his son is spurting all over his chest. Rhaegar chuckles when his youngest child becomes boneless against the sheets. He leans down and kisses his baby boy on the lips.

Rhaegar chuckles as Jon gives a little twitch and whimper in response. “I’ll sleep on the matter,” Rhaegar promises. “But you think about what I’ve said. You’re too pretty not to be used, and as long as you’re outside my grasps—I can’t protect you.” When Rhaegar is fully out of him, Jon’s hole is clenching onto an absence cock, desperate to get filled in his slippery hole again.  

The King of Westeros gets off the bed and buckles his pants. He straightens up his shirt. He doubts his baby boy will be persuaded with this little act, but it’ll serve as a good reminder of what’s to expect in the future.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Before writing this, I was like "do I want dark humor" or "creepy, molestation piece." I went with the former but if I had gone with the latter, it would have been a reminscient of a Dean/John piece where Rhaegar is mourning for Lyanna and decides to use Jon as a replacement. I feel like that's how a lot of Dean/John stories go. Haha.  
> Either way, I hope you know I am very proud to be the first person (on this site, at least) to write Rhaegar/Jon porn. I know I was the first to write Jaime/Benjen so if I accomplish nothing in my life, I've accomplished this.


End file.
